


Cake By the Ocean

by wildfrancium



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Romantic Comedy, Summer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildfrancium/pseuds/wildfrancium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of the summer heat, Clarke sets her eyes on the pretty girl across the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cake By the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> I really like writing summer AUs. I'm putting out this short tidbit to see if anyone is interested in more and then I'll go from there.   
> Don't judge me on the title. I'm in love with that song.

Clarke held the hose limply as it splashed water onto the plants sitting in their pots under the awning. It was honestly too hot to be outside, but the plants refused to die. Probably because she was watering them. Well, overwatering them as she gazed at the girl sitting across the street.

An art shop had opened. Clarke had seen the owner a few times, but for the last three days there’d been a pretty girl sitting by the open store door in a folding chair.

So Clarke had excused herself from work to water the plants. She’d even secretly dressed to impress without looking too out of the ordinary. Black jean cut offs and a navy crop top didn’t seem like much, but it was some of Clarke’s favorite clothing.  She’d even painted her toes to match.

She hadn’t progressed in Operation Go And Talk To Pretty Girl though. Literally all she’d been able to do was yell about the plants the moment she saw the girl through the front window. Bellamy probably thought she’d lost it. None of them cared about the plants especially when it was pushing 95 degrees.

It was the only reason for her to stand outside though and Clarke decided there were way more suspicious things she could be doing instead of standing casually and tending to plants while stealing glances at the girl under the cover of sunglasses.

The pretty girl was in a cream dress with thin straps and a red pattern on the skirt. She was reading a book, but Clarke couldn’t see the title. She wasn’t wearing shoes and her hair was down. She’d draped it over the back of her chair so it wasn’t resting against her neck.

Clarke chewed on her lip. The plants were drowning and she was out of things to water. The last two days she’d panicked at this point and rushed back inside. But today was the day. For all she knew the pretty girl could disappear off into the night if she didn’t take the chance.

But what was she even supposed to say?

She could always go in and BUY art supplies, but she felt like now that she’d exposed herself as someone who liked to stand on the sidewalk with a hose and while she could say she was obviously watering the poor plants in the heat, the pretty girl could easily cross the street and look at the abysmal job Clarke had done and conclude her only motivation was spying.

“Clarke!”

“Shhh!” Clarke snapped automatically. Raven looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“I think the sun’s getting to you,” she said with a snort, folding her arms and leaning against the door. Clarke raised her sunglasses ignoring her comment.

“What?” she asked. She hoped Raven wasn’t there to tell her to stop with the hose or something.

“Your afternoon client called and cancelled. Figured you could use your watering skills upstairs,” she said eying the plants that were adapting to living in a subterranean environment.

“Ha. Ha,” Clarke muttered. “I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Raven nodded and slipped back inside the Ark. When the door shut, Clarke let out a sigh of relief and went to turn the hose off. Then she’d decide if she’d go back inside or cross the street.

 

Clarke had to physically take her own hand and pull it away from the doorknob leading back into the Ark. She was a strong, independent woman capable of crossing the street and striking up a conversation with a pretty girl. She ran her fingers through her hair a few times to give it life, and then stepped out into the road after checking there were no cars to mow her down because that would be utterly embarrassing.

She stopped mere inches from the girl, removing her sunglasses and opening her mouth to speak.

“Come to water my plants?” the girl asked before Clarke could say anything. She didn’t look up from her book on watercolors.

“You don’t have any,” Clarke said. The pretty girl looked up at her.

“Probably for the best because I’m pretty sure you drowned yours.”

Clarke stared at her. The pretty girl smiled, sitting up straight, and closing her book. “Are you here for art supplies?” the pretty girl asked. Her eyes were locked on Clarke’s.

Clarke shook her head. “I’m Clarke Griffin. I work across the street. I thought I would introduce myself,” she said while cringing on the inside because her words not only sounded stiff, but also rehearsed.

“So you don’t need anything from the store?” the girl asked raising an eyebrow.

Clarke debated on what to say, but the girl continued. “We chose this location in hopes that both the age demographic and being located across from a tattoo parlor would benefit us.”

“It will,” Clarke said automatically. “It’s benefited us,” she added. “The age demographic.” She was starting to hope a car would come and take her out.

“That is good information to know. Is the Ark a bar and a tattoo parlor?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said relieved that the question wasn’t difficult to answer with her brain short circuiting. “The first floor is where we tattoo and the second story has a bar that opens to a roof garden area. It’s quite a contrast as the bar is very trendy. Monty’s words not mine,” she explained. The girl nodded.

“And your role?” she asked.

“I do tattoos. We all help with the bar especially if it’s crowded, but I’m an artist not a bartender,” Clarke told her. The girl nodded. “Do you work here?” Clarke asked gesturing to the shop.

“Sometimes. It also holds my studio,” the girl said. Clarke had always wanted her own studio. Bellamy said she could have the storage closet.

“You should come over to the Ark,” Clarke said suddenly feeling bold. They had something in common so that was a good sign. Or a good start. “My client isn’t coming in and the bar is almost open for the evening.” Clarke searched the girl’s eyes. All she saw was amusement, but she didn’t know if that was good or bad.

The girl rose from her chair, standing just taller than Clarke. She was thin and her dress fluttered in the breeze. She lifted her chin. “I will take you up on your offer Clarke,” she said and Clarke celebrated internally even though it now meant that she’d have to continue to engage in conversation and hopefully not make a fool out of herself.

“Will you come now,” Clarke paused realizing the girl was still nameless.

“Lexa,” she informed Clarke. Clarke watched her place her book on the chair and then slip her feet into flip flops. “Shall we begin our evening then, Clarke?” Lexa asked. Clarke nodded. Watering the plants was proving to be one of her greatest ideas yet.

“We shall,” Clarke replied before turning to cross the street with Lexa at her side.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. :D


End file.
